


The Holiday Season(s)

by captainsjedi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Frozen Jewel, Bartender Captain Hook | Killian Jones, Captain Swan Secret Santa 2017, Christmas, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Holidays, New Years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 08:23:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13119873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsjedi/pseuds/captainsjedi
Summary: Emma Swan is not fond of holidays. But maybe a routine encounter with a local bartender could change that.





	The Holiday Season(s)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @jones-alice on Tumblr as part of this year's Captain Swan Secret Santa. Merry Christmas!

Emma Swan was not fond of holidays.

To be fair, it’s not that she didn’t want people to celebrate whatever was important to them or spend time with their friends and family. But when you’ve gone nearly twenty-eight years without much of either, seeing other people experience it usually stung.

This particular night was Valentine’s Day, arguably the worst of the entire year. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes as she saw every storefront in Boston covered with giant pink and red hearts and flowers, as people lined up to buy gifts for their significant others (who they likely ignored during the other three hundred and sixty-four days.)

She actually had plans this year- if you can even call a fake date with her latest skip before she dragged him to the police station “plans.” This one had put up a fight, and came close to breaking her nose. (His punch had hit her cheek instead, where she was now sporting a vibrant, purple bruise.) But she’d still been successful; the jerk was behind bars before eight o’clock, and she had a nice salary in her purse to prove it.

To be fair, she could have spent her Valentine’s Day in better company, and had actually planned to take the night off. But Mary Margaret, bless her, had jumped at the chance to set her up on a date as soon as she heard Emma would be free. She’d then arranged to take tonight’s job and claimed she had to fill in for someone else. Her friend meant well, but she’d been on one too many awful blind dates to be up for another.

Emma had left the police station, one hand on her bruised cheek as she walked through downtown Boston and observed its lovesick residents. Every bar, restaurant, ice cream parlor, and even hair salon was offering some kind of holiday-themed deal: Come in for a haircut and get a second half-off for your Valentine! Anyone with common sense would have to find it cringe-worthy.

It felt like a breath of fresh air when she stumbled upon a bar where the only hint that it was Valentine’s Day came from the couple making out in a secluded corner booth. Emma ignored them as she walked in and took a seat at the bar. The place was mostly empty to her relief, aside from the couple engaging in tonsil-hockey, a few guys playing pool on the other side of the room, and the bartender, who’d come out from the back when she’d taken her seat.

She didn’t look up at him until he approached her. “What’ll it be, love?”

It was far from the first time she’d heard an English accent in Boston, but it still managed to catch her off guard. His looks were only an added bonus: dark hair, blue eyes, a smile she could have easily fallen for if she wasn’t so careful. “Whatever you’ve got,” she muttered.

“One of those nights, eh?”

“You have no idea,” she muttered.

He made her a rum and Coke, something she rarely chose herself, but she gave no objections when he slid it across the table toward her. “There you are.”

“Thanks.”

He looked as if he wanted to say more, but a small group walked in and sat down at the other end of the bar, subsequently holding most of his attention for the time being. Even before this, she was grateful he hadn’t tried to flirt, or get something out of her she wasn’t willing to give. (Sleazy bartenders were just as bad as sleazy fellow-drinkers.) All he’d done was smile sympathetically and refill her drink when she’d asked.

And when she left the bar later that night and glanced back at him over her shoulder, it occurred to her she might not object to ending up at this particular spot again.

-/-

Saint Patrick’s Day was something she’d never been able to comprehend. Of course, it made sense to celebrate if you were Irish and wanted to celebrate your heritage. But most of the people she knew were Americans who used the occasion as an excuse to get drunk without judgment.

Emma couldn’t really talk badly about them considering she was on her second drink of the night. (But for all she knew, she could easily be from some kind of Irish descent via her birth-parents.) She’d chosen the same bar she’d come to on Valentine’s Day, which, again, was void of any kind of tribute to the supposed holiday. The place was crowded in comparison to her last visit, but still retained a laid-back atmosphere she knew would be difficult to find anywhere else in the city tonight.

As she sipped at her drink, she nonchalantly observed the others around her. There was another group of guys playing pool again tonight, something she assumed was a regular occurrence here. A few couples sat together at various tables around the room; she’d had fun for awhile trying to determine the status of their relationship from body language alone.

Two men sat both within speaking range with her at the bar, but thankfully, neither made any attempt at conversation. She’d spoken to no one but the bartender, a tall, curly-haired man whose accent resembled the guy who’d been working the first time she came by. He was nice enough, but she couldn’t help but be slightly disappointed to not see a somewhat familiar face.

After finishing her drink, she’d decided it was probably time to leave- she had work the next morning and knew she’d regret it if she stayed out late- when a familiar voice spoke up. “Fancy seeing you here, lass. Are you leaving?”

The bartender she’d just been thinking of now stood on the other side of the bar, arms crossed atop the wooden surface.

“Oh, um, hi,” she stammered, surprised at his sudden appearance. “Yeah, I’m working tomorrow morning. Can’t successfully catch the guy if I’m hungover.”

This piqued his interest. “Are you a cop?”

“No, bailbonds. I still try to weed out the bad guys, though.”

“What’s this about bad guys?” the other bartender walked over and interrupted them. “Is my little brother bothering you?” he asked Emma.

“Younger.” The other man- apparently his brother- rolled his eyes. “I’m Killian Jones,” he told her, “and this is Liam. We own this place, hence the name.” She glanced to her right and for the first time, noticed the sign that read “The Rusty Knot.” It was odd that she’d failed to noticed before now, but the bar did indeed have a subtle nautical theme: a decent sized model ship hung on the main wall, rope lined the edges of the tables, and the light fixture above them was even made to look like an anchor.

“Yes, we do own the bar,” the oldest one, Liam, continued. “Which is why I wanted to ensure our customers aren’t being bothered.” He glared at Killian, who just rolled his eyes. Emma couldn’t help but laugh at their interaction; they acted like kids rather than two grown men.

“No, he wasn’t bothering me,” she intervened on Killian’s behalf. “I was actually just about to leave.” She dug out enough cash for her bill and pushed it across the bar to them. “It was nice meeting both of you though.”

Both men smiled and told her goodbye, but the way Killian’s eyes caught hers as she walked out the door stuck with her for longer than was comfortable on the way home.

-/-

“I’ve gotta admit, this was not how I planned to spend my Saturday afternoon.”

Emma stood in David and Mary Margaret’s back yard, carrying a basket of eggs that she’d been instructed to hide for their son and his friend’s Easter egg hunt.

“C’mon, Em.” David took an egg from his own basket and placed it in the sandbox under one of Leo’s toys. “Besides, we get to have fun, too.” The main incentive her friends had used in order to persuade her to come early and help was they’d be having burgers and beers after the kids’ egg hunt. She liked David’s grilling too much to say no. That, and he had a cute kid.

“Am I gonna be the only one here sans child?” she asked. “Because, no offense, but that’s always awkward.” Since they’d had Leo two years ago, she’d lost count of how many times she’d come to events at David and Mary Margaret’s and been the only adult who didn’t have any input on cloth diapers or organic milk.

“No, actually. Mary Margaret’s invited some of her co-workers, and I asked some guys I met a few weeks ago at the charity soccer match to come.”

Emma let out a sigh of relief, then paused and narrowed her eyes at him. “I hope your wife knows better than to try to set me up; you never invite single guys to these things unless there’s an ulterior motive.”

“Hey, I never said they were single.”

“They aren’t?”

“Okay, they are,” David admitted. “But no worries. I’d like for you to meet them since I know all the kid stuff can be overwhelming, but I’ve made Mary Margaret promise to stop meddling in your love life.”

“Thank goodness for that.”

Half an hour later, parents arrived with their kids who immediately began tearing the yard apart to find Easter eggs. Emma stood back and watched the chaos unfold with Elsa, one of Mary Margaret’s co-workers she’d been introduced to earlier. The woman was more than friendly, and clearly understood Emma’s relief at being the only one to show up without a child or partner. They couldn’t help but laugh when little Leo had filled his basket to capacity and dumped a pile of Easter eggs in his mother’s lap so he could collect more.

The egg hunt was wrapping up when David tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, Emma, these are the guys I was telling you about earlier. This is-”

“Killian?” She cut him off, recognizing the man behind him.

“Hello, love. Quite a small world, isn’t it?”

David was obviously confused. “Wait, you know each other?”

“I’ve been to their bar a few times,” she answered. “I met him and Liam the last time I was there.” She hadn’t paid a visit to The Rusty Knot since St. Patrick’s Day, but Killian left an impression that was hard to forget.

The oldest of the two brothers was with Killian, but had stopped paying attention to them just then as he noticed Elsa standing beside her. The part of Emma that had been influenced by Mary Margaret over the years already had an idea as to where this may be going based on the look Elsa gave him in return. She couldn’t bring herself to feel disappointed.

“So,” she turned to Killian after David had left to tend to his son, “you two are friends?”

He nodded. “Aye, you could say that. I’m guessing he and his wife are friends of yours as well?”

“More like family,” she admitted. “What’s this I hear about a soccer team?” She was eager to change the subject once she realized what she’d potentially opened the door to discussing.

“ _Football_. But yes, we have a local team that plays every other weekend.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, but laughed instead. “Is calling it soccer that much of an offense?”

“It just doesn’t make sense when you think about it: you do kick the ball with your foot, after all.”

“Touché.” There wasn’t much of an argument she could make against that. They spent the rest of the afternoon discussing American sports (which she didn’t even like but still enjoyed the conversation all the same) and making bets on his brother’s relationship with Elsa.

“They’ll be engaged by Valentine’s Day,” she predicted.

“Are you kidding? I give him until Christmas.”

-/-

Thanks to her liking for The Rusty Knot and David and Mary Margaret’s liking to the Jones brothers, Emma quickly became used to seeing them on a somewhat regular basis. The three of them were all at the Nolan’s Memorial Day barbeque a few weeks later- Liam and Elsa attached at the hip, to no one’s surprise- and Emma ended up at the bar after another violent ordeal with a skip on the Fourth of July.

(It was getting difficult to associate Killian Jones with something besides holidays and special occasions.)

Their friendship grew quickly after they’d exchanged numbers while planning David’s surprise birthday party with Mary Margaret. (Both of them were surprised she’d managed to keep the secret from her husband.) At first, it was just casual conversation filled with his corny dad jokes and her stories about whatever scumbag she’d been tracking. But over time, it shifted to more serious topics, like abandonment, past heartbreak, and trust issues. Emma would never be able to thank him enough for the night he and Liam waived her tab at the bar- and it was a significant one- after she’d dealt with a skip who’d abandoned his family and felt little remorse. She (faintly) remembered Killian all but carrying her out of the bar and hailing a cab, refusing to leave her alone until he saw she was home safely. She couldn’t help but feel indebted to him for that one.

Emma cursed under her breath as the zipper on her costume became tangled in her hair. Tonight was Halloween; she was going with David and Mary Margaret to take Leo trick or treating before going to The Rusty Knot for the costume party she and Elsa had talked the boys into throwing. It was the first time they’d done anything remotely festive at the bar, and were both hopeful the event would draw in more business before the holidays. She’d opted for Princess Leia circa Empire Strikes Back, wearing a white shirt, vest, and pants, grey boots, her hair in a crown braid she’d finally accomplished after watching two hours worth of YouTube tutorials. Her costume idea had sparked a bit of a trend- Liam and Elsa were going as Poe and Rey, and Killian had relented to Han Solo after a bit (a lot) of convincing on her part.

Leo was adorable in his Luigi costume, resulting in dozens of oohs and ahhs from his neighbors as they went from door to door collecting candy. His parents were dressed similarly as Mario and Princess Peach, although David spent the better part of the night complaining about the fake mustache Mary Margaret forbid him to take off. (Emma had a feeling he would insist on choosing the family costume next year.)

The bar was crowded when she walked in just after nine. People were dressed as everything from Disney princesses to Freddy Krueger, who was engaged in conversation with Gandalf when she squeezed by them to find Killian. She eventually spotted him working behind the bar.  
His costume suited him so well it was almost uncanny. He wore a tan shirt with a dark vest and matching pants, a leather belt and holster hanging loose around his waist. His hair was messier than usual- and- “Are you wearing eyeliner?” she asked when she finally found an empty seat at the bar.

She thought she saw him blush as he laughed and started on a drink for the person beside her. “It was Elsa’s idea,” he explained. “She says Solo is a ‘space pirate,’ and pirates wear eyeliner, so it was only fitting.”

Emma smiled. “It suits you.” She wasn’t lying. His eyes somehow looked even more blue than usual.

She ordered a beer and sat with Elsa, casually observing the costumes of others in the bar while the boys worked for the next few hours.

“What do you think the chances are they’ll do something like this again?” the blonde asked her later as the crowd began to think out.

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t, especially if it helps with business. People who had fun tonight seem likely to come again.”

“That’s true. Although I hope they won’t be upset at the lack of eyeliner on the bartender.”

It was just after midnight when she decided to leave; the way she’d felt after the last time staying at the bar until the wee hours of the morning had been enough to keep her from wanting to do it again. She said goodbye to Elsa and Liam, and walked to the other end of the bar to find Killian- only to find him engaged in conversation with Harley Quinn. The girl, who didn’t look old enough to have the drink she held, laughed shrilly at something Killian had said and leaned forward across the bar to emphasize the ample amount of cleavage visible thanks to the low neckline of her shirt.

An unexpected wave of anger hit Emma in a way she wasn’t expecting. Her hands fisted at her sides as she watched the girl run a hand down Killian’s shoulder and whisper something to him she couldn’t make out.

He looked over and noticed Emma just as she turned to leave. “Swan?” He ran out the door after her and grabbed her wrist before she could bolt. “Emma, is something wrong?”

“No,” she lied. “I’m just...not feeling well.”

Killian looked unconvinced. “Are you sure? Is there something I can do?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine; just wanna go home and get some rest. I’ll see you later.” She broke away from him and took off before he could respond.

Emma spent the rest of the night mentally kicking herself for her reaction to the whole thing. First of all, she hadn’t wanted Killian to see her upset. And second of all, she had no reason to be upset in the first place. He was her friend. And you weren’t supposed to feel jealous after seeing someone flirt with said friend.

Because she had been jealous.

If she were honest, she’d been attracted to Killian since they first met. It was hard not to be with his eyes, hair, smile, and the accent that made her stomach flip every time he called her “love.” But attraction and becoming furious after seeing him interact with another woman were two entirely different things.

It was all confusing, but Emma was sure of at least one thing: she was in trouble.

She ignored his texts and calls for the next two days, not knowing what to say to him that wouldn’t make things awkward. It would’ve gone on longer if Elsa hadn’t sent her a text instead. _I’m not sure what’s going on with you and Killian, but you need to talk to him. He thinks he’s done something to upset you._

Elsa was right; she couldn’t avoid him forever, and it’s not as if she actually wanted to. She picked up her phone with intentions of calling him, then opted for a text at the last minute. _Sorry for being MIA the past few days. I haven’t been feeling great._ It wasn’t a complete lie.

He responded within seconds. _I hope you’re alright. Anything I can do?_

(Of course he would try to be helpful.)

“Sure, just make yourself mean and ugly so I’m not attracted to you anymore,” she muttered. _No, I’m fine. See you at Leo’s birthday party next weekend?_

_Aye. I’ll be there._

Now to figure out how to function around him without making a mess of things.

-/-

Leo’s party went off without a hitch. Thankfully, she was too busy helping Mary Margaret decorate and supervise to spend much time with Killian. He tried to speak to her a few different times, but she kept finding things that needed to be done in order to avoid him.

To be fair, she didn’t actually want to avoid him, but there didn’t seem to be much of a choice in order to keep her newfound feelings for him at bay. The more time she spent with him, the more she’d be tempted to act on said feelings. And the last thing Emma wanted was to screw up the friendship that had quickly come to mean so much to her.

A Thanksgiving ordeal was easily avoided, as he and Liam were invited to eat with Elsa’s family. David and Mary Margaret had asked her to join them at her parents’ in Maine, but she opted to work instead, feeling as if she’d be infringing on a family that wasn’t actually hers.

Twice, she’d gone to The Rusty Knot out of a sense of obligation, but managed to pick nights when business was booming and Killian had stayed occupied at the bar. She knew he was fully aware of the distance growing between them; she’d been giving one word replies to most of his texts, even when he sent her no less than a dozen lame jokes in hopes of getting some kind of positive response out of her. Emma had laughed at loud as she sat in her living room and read them all, but only replied, funny.

She quickly found herself dreading Christmas. David and Mary Margaret were staying in town and hosting dinner at their house, meaning she would have no choice but to be in close quarters with Killian. All she could do was hope there would be enough commotion to keep him from finally confronting her for being so distant since Halloween.

He wasn’t the only one who’d noticed her behavior, either. Liam, Elsa, David, and Mary Margaret had all mentioned it to her at least once over the past few weeks. All seemed to be displeased with her excuse of being busy with work, but she stuck to the argument criminals didn’t even take the holidays off. If she told them the truth, she’d never hear the end of it. (And Killian would likely hear all of it.)

Emma spent the majority of Christmas Day trying to come up with an excuse to get out of dinner before she admitted it was no use. If she told David and Mary Margaret she was sick, they’d show up at her apartment and insist on taking care of her. They wouldn’t believe that she had to work since she’d already told them weeks ago she’d taken the entire last week of the month off. She was still thinking of possible excuses even as she dressed in her favorite red dress and heels and left for her friends’ home.

Mary Margaret had told her to come at half past six, but she could tell she’d somehow still arrived late at six-fifteen. No less than a dozen cars were parked around the Nolan house; Emma regretted her decision to wear uncomfortable shoes as soon as she realized how far away she would have to park.

The front door swung open before she had the chance to knock. “Emma!” She all but fought for air as David hugged her tightly.

“I’m glad to see you too, but maybe let me breathe so it’s not the last time we see each other?”

He quickly released her. “Oh, sorry. Come on in; everyone is almost here now.”

David wasn’t kidding. She spent most of her time eating an unhealthy amount of Mary Margaret’s snickerdoodles while somewhat socializing with the other partygoers. (Emphasis on “somewhat.”) She had caught a glimpse of Killian when he and Liam arrived shortly after her, but kept towards the back of the crowd and hoped he wouldn’t spot her. This lasted almost an hour before she began to accept just how exhausting avoiding him for the last several weeks had actually been.

As if she’d read her mind, Elsa seemed to appear out of nowhere and cornered her in the Nolan’s den. “Elsa, what are you-”

“Cut the crap, Emma.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what’s been going on between you and Killian, but enough is enough. The poor guy is acting like he’s lost his best friend- which, I guess he has.” Elsa frowned. “At least do him the justice of explaining why you’ve chosen to avoid him like the plague.”

This proved just how much Elsa had come to care about both of the Jones brothers; Emma would have expected this confrontation from Liam rather than her. “You’re right, I’ve been horrible to him,” she admitted. “I’ll go talk to him now if it helps.” Leaving the party altogether seemed preferable to spilling her guts to him. In fact, Emma could easily think of quite a few things she’d rather do. But none of it seemed worth damaging her friendship with Killian any more than she already had.

At least Elsa seemed pleased with this turn of events. “Good. He was outside when I last saw him.” Probably moping about you she didn’t add.

Emma found him alone out on the Nolan’s back porch. He leaned against the railing, hands in his pockets, looking just as Elsa had said. The sad expression on his face was enough to make her heart sink. “Hey.” She smiled at him for what felt like the first time in months.

The smile he gave in return didn’t reach his eyes. “Hello, Swan.”

“Can we talk?”

“Aye.” He raised his eyebrows, surprised at her request. “What’s on your mind, love?”

She walked over and leaned on the porch railing beside him. “A lot of things. I think I owe you an apology.”

“Why is that?”

“You know why. I’ve been avoiding you for weeks for no good reason other than my own pride.”

He didn’t respond, indicating for her to continue.

“You remember Halloween, right? The costume thing you guys had at the bar?” she asked before she lost her nerve. She told Killian about the girl she’d seen flirting with him and what it made her realize afterwards. It all came out in a stream of words that she hoped he’d be able to comprehend since there was little chance she’d be capable of repeating it all again. “I’m sorry if this makes things weird now. I’m sure I can just get over it, but I thought you deserved to know the truth.”

Emma watched him nervously out of the corner of her eye. She could see conflicting emotion on his face as he processed all she’d told him. Had she just ruined their friendship? Did Killian think she was ridiculous?  
What he said was the last thing she expected to hear. “Swan, can I kiss you?”

“Wait, what?”

“Sorry for being presumptuous, but I just figured as you have feelings for me, and I have feelings for you-”

Emma just laughed as she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him forward to fuse his lips with hers. The rest could wait.

-/-

“What a year, huh?”

The Rusty Knot was packed, everyone crowded around the newly installed flat screen to watch the live broadcast from Times Square. They were all together: Emma, Killian, Liam, Elsa (who wore the ring Liam had proposed with on Christmas night, Killian continued to gloat about predicting that one.) Even David and Mary Margaret, who always worried about leaving Leo with a babysitter, had made arrangements to be there.

She smiled at Killian as he sat on the bar stool beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. They still had yet to actually discuss just what was starting between them, but she wasn’t scared of it anymore. Whether or not he knew it, he’d shown her over the span of the year that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Yeah,” she agreed. “I’m kind of sad to see it end, though.”

“As am I. But,” he smiled, “I’ve a feeling this next one might be the best year yet.”

They looked over as everyone in the bar began to count down with the timer on the TV screen. “Ten, nine, eight.”

“You know something, Killian?”

“Seven, six, five.”

“What’s that, love?”

“Four, three two.”

“I think you’re right.”

And when he kissed her on “one,” she knew he was.


End file.
